


Princess Potter (In which Harry Potter is a Disney Princess)

by Spaghettiforpapy



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cute Harry Potter, Disney Princess Harry Potter, Disney References, Effeminate Harry Potter, Feminine Harry Potter, Harry Potter Works With Hagrid, Harry Potter attracts Animals, In which Harry potter is a disney princess, Its late and im ready to make bad decisions, Multi, Yes you heard me correctly, god help me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-08-23 02:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16610159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaghettiforpapy/pseuds/Spaghettiforpapy
Summary: The Dursleys tried to hate Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Ruined-Their-Lives, but always found that his freakish charm wound up making his own life easier. Petunia would scream at the boy to scrub the dishes free of leftover grease from Dudley's breakfast, and soon she would wind up doing it herself. Marge would sic her hound on the child, only for the child to charm not only the dog but all nearby wildlife.No matter how hard they tried, Harry Potter could not just stay miserable- as he grew into his looks, he also grew better at staying innocent from all his "freakish" crimes. Vernon was close to going bald from pulling out his hair at this point, so when Potter's owl arrived, he decided that there really was no point in trying anymore, and to just let the boy unleash his freakishly enchanting aura onto the other weirdos and mistakes of the Wizarding World.At least it wasn't him being subjected to it anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. You read those tags correctly. Yes. You read that title correctly. Yes. This is going to happen. 
> 
> Be prepared for the usual Disney Charm that all their princesses have- as well as various creatures, magical or not, being drawn in to Harry's presence.

Thick eyelashes separated from eachother as viridian eyes opened up to the plain ceiling of the small bedroom of Number Four, Private Drive of Little Whinging. The bedroom had been reserved for a wide variety of broken and unneeded toys in the past, but that had changed soon enough when the little one that lived under the stairs had always wound up outside of it, with his captors all tucked inside of it. 

The small boy, who has been malnourished for half of his life before his relatives bothered to start feeding him once they realized the risk that grew from any of the non-existent anger he held against them to accumulate, had grown up to many titles, most of which not being in the least born from compassion, the one he had liked the most being the name "Harry James Potter". Not freak, not abomination, just... Harry. 

Harry ran his slightly bony fingers through his hair, glancing over at the locked window beside his bed, and then towards the locked door residing on the other side of the room. His Uncle and Aunt were paranoid people, horrid as well, but he could not blame them for locking his door for almost every minute of the day. 

He would be scared, too, if he was forced to take in someone he didn't understand, someone he was afraid of. Instead of feeling the hate and anger that the Dursley's deserve- and they deserve way more than that, terrible creatures they are- Harry pitied them and felt sorry for them, as one such as himself pitied for every single living being that had ever inconvenienced him or any other being. Not because he would hurt them worse in the furure, or because he sympathized with them- God, no. No, because in the future, they would always get what they deserved. And it would be ten times worse than what he had, he would be sure of it. 

Harry believed in Karma just for that reason. A shred of hope that, anyone who had done wrong would have the same, or worse, done to them. It was justice in its finest, and Harry had seen it be played out before himself. 

 Currently he was in the thick of summer break, legs crossed as he sat down on the old, wooden chair, and dived back into one of his older Algebra books. The Durlsey's had gotten cheap, hand-me-down books that were a few grades higher than he was currently in, but he didn't mind. Spending time attempting to understand the advanced material was time spent not being bored out of his mind. 

It was an understatement to say that the Dursleys were scared of the raven-haired, green eyed, petite boy who barely balanced thick, broken glasses on the small curve of his nose. It's been like that for his entire life, but for the past few years it had spiked up extraordinarily when he "spread" his freakishness outside of the home. 

Turning his teacher's hair blue, winding up on the top of a tall building, or miraculously growing all the hair back that Petunia had chopped off, they seemed to add to the sudden stress that has been evident in the graying of hairs and wrinkles that showed up the last few time he had gotten a really good look at his caretakers.

He found himself being locked into the small bedroom for almost every hour of the day as if he were some damsel locked at the top of a tall, spindling tower. Good food and books were slid through the slot on the bottom of his door, as if they were some sacred offerings to appease a diety of a sort. 

Harry sat, thumbing his way through the pages in wait for breakfast. His long hair, uncut and somehow having grown rapidly for no exterior reason, fell over the back of his chair and tumbled onto the floor. The window was small, but wasn't locked- thankfully the Dursley's knew he needed fresh air. Even he couldn't climb through that little wedge.

He immersed himself into the book, soaking up every formula and every word greedily- it was the only source of entertainment he had, besides building small pillow forts that he barely fit in and happily whistling along with the birds outside his window that come to play. 

It could be sad, he supposed, but it was peaceful enough living here. Sometimes he wondered what their plan was- they can't keep him here forever, and they can't expect him to be homeschooled forever. He wondered what they'll do when he reaches an age in which he'll have to leave. 

Harry's fingers tapped against the hardcover of the book. Speaking of age, it was going to be his birthday soon- he shouldn't expect anything coming from them, but the animals did like to visit him more on that day than any other. 

His head turned at the sound of familiar tapping at his window. Harry set his book down, standing and brushing his long hair behind his legs, stepping over dark locks and walked towards the window. 

Expecting a squirrel or a bluejay or some other small, friendly creature of that sort, he pushed the window open with a beaming smile. "Lovely to see you, little one-"

The animal on his windowsill was most definitely not little, and he almost fell forward when he realized what it was. The bird, a Great-Horned Owl, was large, tufts of feathers sticking from above a brow that shaped around its face and beak. Its feathers were a deep grey, glossy and clearly well-kept. Large but penetrating golden eyes seemed to judge Harry for his not-so-eloquent introduction.

Harry stepped back, stumbling a bit on his own hair as the large bird made its way inside of his room, carrying a letter tied to one of its feet. It's talons were clasped around the string and side of the letter gently, so to not tear it. 

The boy opened his mouth to voice his complaints when the owl almost immediately hopped onto his bed, knowing from experience that feathers will be found under the sheets for  _weeks_ afterward, but he shut his jaw with a click once the owl turned with a glare that was endearingly similar to one of a jaded and experienced elderly man, not unlike the one that Harry had seen down the street when he was still allowed outside of the home. 

Harry pulled a chair forward next to the bed, gulping down a lump of saliva that had clogged his throat. He reached his hands out to the owl. "Well, Mister- o- or Miss!- may I...?" 

The child gestured for the letter like one would do with any other human being- except for the fact that this was an owl, not a human being or even a mammal. But, I digress. 

The owl lifted one leg, head turning to the other side and beak sticking out with an air that seemed all too rude for whatever Harry may or may not have done to offend the animal- then again, the bird seemed to be offended by the mere existence of everything, so Harry decided to not be, well, offended in turn. 

 Gingerly tying the letter off of the owl's claw, he quickly slid his half-full glass of water towards the bird as a peace offering. The bird glanced at Harry, dipping it's head as far as it could and tilting the cup back with one foot to access more of the cool liquid. 

Harry glanced down at the worn paper in his hands, unable to stop himself from admiring the beautifully crafted wax seal(are wax seals even used anymore nowadays?). He turned the paper over, reading the adress on the back. 

_**Mr. H. Potter** _

_**The Smallest Bedroom** _

_**4 Private Drive** _

_**Little Whinging** _

_**Surrey.** _

__How peculiar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess had been locked away for so long, but his knight in shining armor comes in the form of an exhausted, stressed Professor.

"How curious," Harry mumbled. He thumbed his fingers over the crest that sealed the envelope shut, digging his fingernails gingerly in between wax and paper and popping it off.

The boy admired the wax seal that he held in his hand, gingerly rubbing over the marks with a finger and setting it aside for safekeeping. He couldn't possibly ruin something as nicely made as that, could he?

With great gusto, Harry held his hands up and flipped the letter open, raising a brow at the fact that it was made of some sort of parchment and was handwritten with a calligraphy pen of sorts- that's what it seemed, at least, with how neatly and beautifully curved the letters shaped together in each word. 

 The first thing that drew his eyes in were the bold letters that titled the beginning of the letter. ""Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"? What in the world?" Harry muttered, absolutely bewildered. And immediate thought that came to his mind was the question as to who in their right mind would name a school "Hogwarts", of all things?

"Headmaster... "Albus Dumbledore". Order of- my goodness, that's quite a lot of titles," Harry raised both brows, adjusting his glasses and squinting his eyes as he reread every word. This Dumbledore person seemed awfully important- even the owl on his bed seemed to look up as he said the name, though perhaps this sort of intelligence was common in... whatever world these wizards and witches exist in?

 Harry skimmed through the welcoming letter, glancing over the list of items he would need. His relatives would most defininately not help him with garnering any of these items, no matter how intimidating his presence may be to them(which he still doesn't get), so, in his mind, replying to this letter seemed to be the most suitable choice. 

He tucked the letter into one of his creaky, worn desk drawers, pulling out a pen that was chewed on by one-too-many of a mouse, and a wrinkled piece of notebook paper. He set to properly and carefully writing down the response letter, wanting to leave a good impression with the best grammar and spelling he could manage. 

 

_Dear Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,_

 

_I am pleased to have read my acceptance letter. I really would like to attend your school, but I am afraid that my uncle and aunt wouldn't be pleased with me going. Would it be possible for one of your teachers to arrive directly at the house and, more ~~perferabley~~ preferably, go around to my bedroom window(the small box-sized hole around the back of the house)? I would think it would be better if they didn't know about this at all. _

_Sincerely,_

_Harry James Potter_

 

Harry looked at his letter with pride. It had taken some trial and error(those longer words were a mouthful and he had to search them up in the dictionary and spell check them), but he felt that he sounded like a truly distinguished and mature individual. He was still filled with a bit of anxiety, worried that they might not take him seriously, but Harry truly, earnestly, did not want the Dursleys to prevent him from going to this school, and damnit he tried his best to convey that without sounding personal.

Harry looked over at the brooding owl, rolling the lined paper up into a scroll like his acceptance letter came in, and used the same string to bind it. 

"Would you please come over here? It would be very nice of you to hold still while I tie this to your... leg. There," Harry fumbled with the knot, brushing his hair out of his face with a still-wide smile. Thankfully, the irritable bird didn't nip or bite at him, apparently having been trained enough to stay still with its leg out. "Take this back to Hogwarts, would you? Please?"

The owl looked up at him balefully, turning tail and fluttering off. Thankfully, without nipping or biting him. Seems like even the most temperamental animals like him.

Harry felt a sigh of relief that he didn't know was inside him leave his body. His tense shoulders relaxed, and he moved over to his bed, tripping and fumbling over the large mounds of hair under him. He sat on the bed, not even attempting to push down the giddy smile that crawled onto his face, covering his mouth with both hands and letting out a muffled yet gleeful shriek of happiness. 

◇◇◇

The moment Dumbledore explained to Severus Snape what he would have him do, the potions professor had the utmost urge to turn around, leave the country, and call it quits. No way in hell was the old goat so oblivious as to make him retrieve the spawn of his worst-deceased-enemy, but the geezer probably had it out for him. 

As Severus stood under the tiny window slotted into the wall of the plain, two-story house, he pondered what decision in his life brought him here. His choice to become a teacher and educate little neanderthals all day? Perhaps this is punishment for assisting Lord V- He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named all those years ago, even if it was just the tiniest bit? Or perhaps the universe was collectively out for him and on a mission to turn his life to utter hell? 

Whatever the case was, Severus was in no way happy or ready to face the little brat child of his enemy. The younger Potter was probably spoiled and an annoying cretin like his father, and he already deals with enough of them on a daily basis let him tell you that.

A glance around the block showed that there was no real sign of anyone being home. There wasn't any noise, any chatter, or the buzzing of Muggle devices in their homes. Nor were there any Muggle transportation devices in or around the house- cars, were they called?- and so Severus assumed that the house was empty and the kid wasn't even home.

Despite this, Severus went against his better judgement to just turn tail and go home and raised his voice to yell up at the window. 

"Mister Potter!" He hollered up at the window. A brow would have quirked in surprise when the window slid open, if he allowed himself to express anything on his face, but let him assure you that he is always completely emotionally stable and always able to keep a straight expression. "If you would be  _so kind_ as to  _open the door,_ we shall be able to discuss about acquiring your Hogwarts supplies and  _quickly_ finish this."

A round-cheeked face popped out from the window, a few long locks of dark hair falling from the windowsill and around the boy's head. The boy made eye contact with the intimidating man, and the look of absolute anxiety and discomfort that crossed his face was flattering enough to make Severus preen in pride at his own intimidation. 

"U-uh- I- agh- I'm sorry, sir, but the door is always locked! I can't exactly o-open it!" Harry James Potter stuttered out, stumbling over his words. 

"Yes, well, that's why the ability to  _unlock_ doors is there, Mister Potter. I am sure that it is simple enough to do so," Severus gave him a flat, unimpressed look that made the Potter flush in embarrassment. 

"N-no, sir, I mean that  _my_ door is... locked. It's, um, locked from the outside. I can't really open it," Potter mumbled, making Severus scoff silently in slight distaste, although the statement wasn't that bad. 

"So your relatives lock you inside whenever they go out? No matter, it is simple enough for me to get inside a house," Severus grumbled under his breath. He pushed down the sleeves of his robe while walking towards the front of the house, shaking his hands off a bit before gripping on his wand and waving it at the door. " _Alohomora._ "

The door unlocked- obviously, his skills in charms were nothing to scoff at- and he simply stepped in, allowing the door to shut wuite dramatically behind him. 

Severus took in the interior of the home with distaste. Everything was polished to perfection, walls bright and furniture carefully placed in convenient positions. It was all very dull, really, from the plain couches to the still photographs of some sort of colorful beach ball tucked into swea- good God, is that an actual human child? 

He let himself stare in disbelief at the pictures on the wall for a second, slowly shaking his head with a scowl. It was clear that the two boys were spoiled brats, from how well fed that little... child was from their photos. He would admit that it would be strange that there were no signs of Potter anywhere about, though he will have to assume that not only is he a brat but also a troublemaking brat- presumably running out whenever he's needed for a family photo because of his self-righteousness and whatnot. 

Severus strode up the stairs, taking careful time examining each step and his surroundings. His dark robes moved like silk in the sea around him with each step he took, finally reaching the second floor and going down the hallway. He examined each bedroom, rapping at each door. 

His knuckles made contact with wood for the fifth time, and Potter responded. 

"Oh! I'm in here! Please, don't mind the mess when you come in..." The shaky voice of the child came out from the room, a bit on edge. 

Severus didn't respond, just grumbling under his breath as he uttered "Alohomora" once more. With a motion from his wand the door unlocked, and he pushed it open to reveal a messy bedroom filled with books and piles of papers, as well as hair. Mountains of hair, actually, specifically originating from the head of Potter himself, who was staring at him like a shaken doe, wide green eyes surprised at his very, very intimidating figure. 

There, Potter was standing, piles of his ex-nemesis' dark, messy hair and all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been procrastinating too much   
> I shouldn't be finishing this at 3 am but oh well what're you gonna do  
> before I actually went onto the shape segment I just wrote something like "severus hated this school, that old goat, and his fucking life" so that I could remember that it was in his perspective ://  
> This bottom part was primarily written whenever I was up early in the morning because I've always procrastinated everything except school work during the actual day
> 
> please tell me if I fucked up im too out of it to care right now


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Diplomat and the General are soon meet with the Knight and their Princess, although the two need to make a quick stop into goblin territory first before they continue on. The Knight is still displeased.

Harry hasn't ever properly spoken to or been introduced to any other human being outside of his aunt and uncle, on occasion, but after seeing the bat-like man who was attempting to constantly freeze him with his very glare paired with the curl of thin lips, Harry can safely say that he'd rather not meet any other person after today. Animals were much more pleasant, to be honest, more peaceful in contrast to this looming, brooding figure bathed in shadows.

 

Harry coughed a little, awkwardly, but gave the man the best smile he could muster. Even with his cold exterior, he was sent to introduce Harry to magic, and Harry just couldn't be rude to someone he just met. 

 

"Good evening," Harry started off, hastily brushing his hair from his face and standing straight. In the books he had read- mostly fairytales, ones he fantasizes of entering and exploring- pleasant greetings seemed to do the trick when trying to create a nice start to a conversation. The boy didn't want to seem unpleasant to the older man, though he still shifted and shimmied with underlying excitement and anxiety. "Y-you are here from Hogwarts, right? I'm Harry. Er- Harry Potter."

 

The man looked down at him, still. His greasy hair flanked either side of his face, and layed limp against his shoulders. "... Yes," he said, and Harry shivered at the pure resentment the man carried with his voice. "I am Severus Snape, however you shall address me as "sir" or "Professor Snape"."

 

"Right!" Harry said, put off by the sudden, well, rudeness the man had given him in his response. His strict demeanor made Harry shrink a bit- were all adults like that, even the wizards? "Uh- sir."

 

He "hmm"-ed. "I was sent to bring you to Diagon Alley, and acquire your books. However, it seems there may be a bit of a..." He turned his nose down at Harry, glancing at his hair," situation to prevent us."

 

"Situ... oh," Harry grasped at his long locks, pulling it close to his side almost protectively, twisting and turning them between his fingers. "W-well, I didn't think it would be a problem, sir. It's just hair, right?"

 

"Do you wish to trip over that mane everywhere you go?" Snape sneered, pulling out a long wooden stick. "Nevermind that. I will simply take care of it. A simple slicing spell shall do the trick."

 

Harry paled a bit. "W-wait! Isn't cutting it off a little hasty? I mean-" he fumbled with his locks, stepping back "- sir, I know you have magic and everything, maybe we could just... tie it up? To avoid a mess everywhere, of course."

 

Snape looked at him with a blank expression. "You wish to keep your hair at its length?" He looked over at the dark hair with clear distaste. "Can't clean up the remains on your own, can you? Lazy little..." His nostrils flared a bit as Harry gave him a wide eyed look, pleading," fine. Don't expect me to cater to your every wish, like a little Princess."

 

He pulled his sleeves back dramatically, flicking his wand in between two thin and dark-stained fingers. Harry's hair floated upwards, knots being tugged out painfully from his hair, strands and clumps being pulled away from his hair as it forcefully smoothed itself out on its own, before splitting up and quickly braiding itself. 

 

Harry marvelled at the sudden weight that was taken off of him, before flinching as the large, thick braid fell back down and tugged his head back abruptly. He quickly settled himself, although his hair did drag a little bit behind his feet. 

 

"You will be responsible for managing yourself," Snape stood tall, holding out an arm. "It is  _your_ hair, after all. Now hold on, and don't you dare complain."

 

"Yes, sir!" Harry exclaimed, pulling his hair over own shoulder and cradling it in one arm, holding onto the very edge of Snape's elbow with his free hand. He wiggled a bit with excitement, gaining a questioning look from the man. Harry only grinned to himself, looking downwards. This was it! A full year away from his little prison, and out exploring! Nothing could possibly ruin his feelings of elation-

 

A loud crack resonated throughout the room, and Harry violently doubled over as the two dissapeared. His chest tightened, his skull pounded, and his eyes were being squeezed back. His eyelids squeezed closed as their surroundings changed, colors beciming brighter and the smell of smoke and dust filling his senses. He was being suffocated by the smell, but he was tugged upwards at the same time by the older man, stomach rolling and his brain thumping against his cranium. 

 

He retched, but nothing came up. Close to being violently sick, the boy looked up at the older man with teary eyes, who only looked back down with vague disdain. 

 

"Are you quite finished yet?" Snape questioned, nudging him and gesturing him to stand up. The two of them moved forward, and all of a sudden it was apparent where they were. 

 

A long road, an alley of sorts, lined with carts and people and creatures and buildings of all sorts. The buildings twisted and towered a bit, although they were squished into lines on either side of the long cobbled road. Harry was urged forward by Snape, and he stumbled as he carried his hair with him.

 

They set foot down the alley, and Snape said nothing. He didn't look down at Harry for a second, gaze burning a path ahead of the two as wizards and witches alike unconsciously split a path for the duo. 

 

"So," Harry spoke, and winced as Snaps glowered down at him coldly. "Were my parents magic, too? Did they go to Hogwarts like I'm going to go?"

 

Snape didn't spare him a glance. "I believe that you were already entitled to that information, Potter. That woman- your aunt- she was meant to inform you about our world."

 

Harry frowned. "But she didn't, though," he said, thoughtfully. Having no reign on his tongue, he then asked a question with the sort of innocence a small child who hasnt had any contact with the outside world," and now I wonder- how does a witch and a wizard die in a car crash?"

 

Snape paused abruptly, shoulders tensing as he stopped in the middle of the Alley. Harry bumped into his back, letting out a small "oof!" as he stumbled a few steps back, only barely holding onto his hair while not falling over. Passerby glanced over curiously, a few in awe of the gentle innocence that the child held before settling their eyes on the dark, brooding man in front of him. That detracted a lot of attention. 

 

"Sir?" Harry asked, his voice meek and small as he looked up at Snape. His entrails sank down to his feet, his chest feeling heavy with regret- did he overstep some boundaries? "Is there something wrong?"

 

Snape turned his head slightly, looking at Harry with an unidentifiable expression. Harry, with all of his social inadequacy, could still feel the burning rage and shock that Snape held. "You are saying that Lily and James Potter died in a  _car crash_?" He azked, with such a sincere tone of incredulity that burrowed deep into the pit of Harry's stomach with an aftertaste of shame and embarrassment.

 

The man seemingly forgot he was speaking to a child, staring at Harry for a few minutes longer than he needed. Harry, with all his lack of understanding of social cues, said," ... Their names were Lily and James?"

 

That only made the man tense up more. "We will be speaking of this later," he said, simply. "Your parents were both wizards. That's all you need to know for now- we are in public."

 

The last word punctuated the end of their conversation, but Harry could still see the tension in Snape's shoulders. He walked forward a bit, quickening his pace to match the man's long strides. 

 

"Where are we going?" He gave a simple question, attempting to lighten the atmosphere around their previous conversation. Harry kept his braid bundled up in his arms. 

 

"To the Wizarding World's bank, Gringotts," Snape lifted his head, and Harry looked up to see a tall, formidable building with a large glass dome perched at the top, more professional than the chaos surrounding them. "We are to collect the money left behind in your trust vault to pay for your school supplies."

 

"Trust vault? They left me money?" Harry frowned. He certainly had never been entitled to or given anything nice from whatever his parents had left him- all the books and clothes he had gotten were second hand at best. 

 

"Yes, a trust vault. You will not have any access to their main vault in the future," Snape glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye. "Although I doubt you'd spend that much money wisely should you receive it."

 

"But it's not as if it's a lot of money," Harry said, straightening. "I mean, if it was then why was I living in such a..." He trailed off, close to opening up about his living situation.

 

Snape studied him for a bit as they reached the entrance. "Gringotts is run by goblins. For the sake of your entire financial future, do avoid being rude to them."

 

Harry's jaw dropped. " _Gob-?_!"

 

Snape raised a hand. "Yes. Goblins," he glared at the door. "Before we go in, I cannot in.... good conscious... not want you about who we are to face inside. Greedy, dangerous, and sadistic, these vermin are a plague on our society." He ground his teeth. "I personally had many a bad run in with them. I advise that you do not speak to them."

 

Harry looked at the man, shocked. The emotions coming from him resonated deep in Harry, and he took a step back. "I-isn't that a bit har-"

 

The door opened, and Snape ushered Harry inside with a quick shove to the back of his head. Harry winced, and walked into the building. He admired the dark, glossy floor and the mystical, yet professional, ambience of the reception. His breath caught in his throat when his eyes locked onto the small, wrinkly creatures behind tills and desks, and he realised that the goblins were everywhere. 

 

The tills lined a long hallway of swirling black and grey tiles, each of them set up with a goblin furiously scratching at parchment, of all things, and weighing pieces of gold, silver, and copper. Around them wizards and witches alike were led around by goblins, standing at tills or being escorted in and out of dark halls.

 

He spotted one goblin weighing glowing rubies double the size of his fists together, but he didn't lollygag as he quickened his pace with Snape beside him. The two reached an elderly goblin with a scraggly nest of frizzy white hair raised around his head, as if he were electrocuted and fried. He was as professional as the other goblins, although his face conveyed an emotion akin to sniffing a pile of dung, contorting into disgust upon seeing the two of them. 

 

The expression changed when the goblin caught sight of Snape. His wrinkly, puckered lips twisted into a genuine smile, hunching his back over and leaning towards the man. The man sneered, reeling back as the goblin's eyes lidded, and Harry noticed that most, if not all, goblins were looking at Snape with the same expression. 

 

"Why, Severus," the goblin said, smirking. It was smirking. It was being coy. Harry stared in open-mouthed shock. "It's... warming to see you cross our halls once more."

Snape wasted no time in speaking, bowing his head respectfully- or perhaps with tight resignation instead- as Harry stared up at the goblin with wide, emerald green eyes. "Mr Potter is here to make a withdrawal," he said, calmly. The goblin opened his mouth to speak, but he had already pulled out a thin, gold key from the depths of his robes, holding it between two fingers. He moved his face forward as he set it on the space in front of the goblin. "I personally wish to waste neither of our time with this."

 

The goblin's beady, black eyes moved downwards to the key, before moving upwards to Snape's stoney expression. "Very well," he said, though he was still smiling at Snape. "You needn't have dropped it on the table. You could have... handed it over."

 

Harry looked down to Snape's hands, which were tucked very, very deep into his long sleeves. "I would rather not. I do like to avoid physical contact, as you remember," Snape said, coldly. 

 

"A shame," the goblin hummed, wistfully. "Your skin is very sallow. Wrinkly, too. I envy you. Very well, very well, off to the vault."

 

The next thing Harry knew, he and Snape were being carted off into a small, well, cart, set on a track that led into the darkness of a deep cavern. "Keep your hands and feet inside," the goblin who would be manning the cart said, a different one from the first- he wore a dark suit, and his hair was full and slicked back,"we wouldn't want any accidents, do we?"

 

The goblin looked up at Snape, and he grinned slyly. Snape shuddered with revulsion, his hands coming up to tighten on Harry's shoulders despite his disdain for the child.

 

Harry squeezed himself into the far corner of the cart, looking around the large cavern as Snaps settled himself in next to him, face unreadable. The cart started, and Harry was pretty sure that his stomach didn't leave with them. It zoomed off onto the track, and the twists and turns of the ride led him to cling onto Snape for dear life with one arm, and his hair with the other.

 

The goblin looked back at times to make eye-contact with Snape, smirking almost suggestigelt every time the man looked back. Harry looked between the two with confusion, seeing the running trend between goblins and Snape. 

 

Harry had no time to enjoy the ride, only holding onto the displeased man's arm as his senior tried and failed to keep an emotionless expression, his fists clenching into his dark robes. "I- is there a way to slow this down?" Harry called to the goblin, almost shouting. 

 

The goblin gave him a twisted, ugly smile. "One speed only."

 

◇◇◇

 

After that unpleasant ride, Harry had trouble holding himself upright. He swallowed back bile, gripping onto Snape as the cart slowed to a steady halt. 

 

"Vault seven-one-three," the goblin called, hopping out and glancing back at Snape. He held out a hand. "If you need assistance-"

 

"I'm quite fine with getting out on my own," Snape snapped, quickly. He slid out of the cart, after prying Harry away from his arm, and gave himself a careful amount of distance away from the goblin.

 

Harry moved to get out after him. He winced as strands were tugged out of his skull, some of his hair having been trapped between the edges of the cart. His braid was somehow still in place, neat and smooth- magic, he assumes.

 

The goblin held up a lantern, the wrinkles on his face given more depth by the striking shadows and light that came from the lantern. He gestured for Harry and Snape to step back. "By attempting to access the vault without a key, it would assume you to be a thief and immediately suck you in," the goblin's mouth stretched into that same nasty smile. "I wouldn't want such a fate to befall you, especially, Severus."

 

"Lovely," Snape spat as the goblin made quick work unlocking the vault door. 

 

"When do you check on the people who are trapped in there?" Harry asked, quietly. 

 

For the first time since he enteted Gringotts, a goblin gave him a cursory glance. The goblin sneered. "Every ten years. You'd be a fool to attempt to rob Gringotts."

 

Harry's spine tingled with wariness, shivering a bit as he stood next to Snape. The door opened, slowly, and they were witness to his trust vault. 

 

It was... huge. It wasn't vacant, although it's ceiling was far high and it's walls were wide apart, but coins filled every corner of the room. Large hills of gold coins towered over Harry, although he was quite small for his age, and smaller mounds of silver and copper lay across the floor, scattered here and there and peppered across the gold.

 

Harry picked up a gold coin, Snape making quick work of entering the vault as the goblin continued to goggle at the man. The creature's staring only intensified as Snape bent to shovel some coins into a small leather bag that he pulled out from his robes, although the robes were large enough to cover the...  _derriere._

 

Harry coughed, the atmosphere getting to one-sidedly intimate for his own liking. "U-uhm," he spoke up, looking down at the gold coin. It was large and shiny, barely fitting in his small palm, although he was small for his age in general. "Why are there more of the golden coins than the other ones?"

 

Snape looked up, and maybe the old man seemed a little bit thankful to focus on something other than the goblin ogling at him. "The "golden coins" you speak of are called Galleons. The silver are Sickles, and the copper Knuts," he walked over, and Harry startled as he shoved a strangely lightweight and still small leather bag into his arms. "There are 17 Sickles to a Galleon and 26 Knuts to a Sickle."

 

Here he turned and strode out of the vault as Harry "oh"-ed in understanding. The boy speedwalked after him, and the goblin closed the door. Snape wasted no time sliding back into the cart, his knees curled up to his chest as his lanky body folded in half to fit in. 

 

Harry paused, turning to the goblin and stopping him before he entered. His curiosity got the best of him once more. "I was wondering," he questioned, softly,"whatever is your name?"

 

It would be strange to explain, but it was nicer than asking if goblins even had names at all. 

 

The goblin blinked in surprise, his eyes pried away from Snape for once. "My name?" He asked Harry, brows furrowing before raising before furrowing once more, as if he couldn't decide between being surprise or being confused. He decided to let them raise, eyes still narrow and nose stil scrunched. "My name is Griphook. Not as if any wizard, or witch for that matter, bothered to ask before."

 

"Well, that's just rude, isn't it?" Harry spoke before he could think. "I mean, if you were to get your account managed or taken to your vault or withdraw money then, well, wouldn't you want to know the name of the one who helped you there?"

 

The goblin, Griphook, studied him, staring at him as if he sprouted two large ears at each side of his neck and proclaimed he was the Grand Emperor of SomethingOrWhatsit. It was a concerned sort of glance. 

 

"You share a very different mentality from the other wizards, hm?" Griphook's face softened a bit, before hardening. "Childish naivety, no doubt."

 

"But the opposite shouldn't make sense, should it? It would just be mean to assume that not knowing the names of the people you work with, wouldn't it?" Harry didn't quite exactly know how these social situations between wizard and goblin worked, but he had assumed that it would be as normal as any other person talking to another. "I don't quite understand why wizards would be having a different mentality than mine- you're a person too, aren't you?"

 

Griphook didn't respond. He just looked... amused. Amused and sad at the same time, grimacing tightly. "Aren't we?" His face went back to that scrunched up sneer. "Nevermind that. I already answered your question, now get back into the cart."

 

Harry jumped at the sudden change in the conversation, before nodding. "Right! And, uhm, thank you for taking us down here today, Mister Griphook," He said the last one quietly, but extremely quickly as well. Harry dashed over to the cart, jumping in as the goblin wobbled over and hopped in as well. 

 

Griphook didn't speak to them for the journey back. He didn't even turn to look at Snape. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUC k 
> 
> I delet3e so muc by accidently gott damnit ao3 I am gkjn to rip you apart wmfuuehee stupid fucusiing image inserted I didn't want to insert an image but noooooo you had to delete all of my shit goddamit
> 
> if I suffer, I'm making Snape suffer too fuck it 
> 
> I didn't intend for this to happen but o h w e l l


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